


Suicide

by muscatmusic18



Series: December Prompts [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, December Prompt Challenge, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Suicide mention, Talking down, but a happy ending, suicidal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8745565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muscatmusic18/pseuds/muscatmusic18
Summary: She was silent for a beat, like she was gathering courage, and then she spoke again, more quietly than ever. "I'll miss you."If Daniel was just a man on a bridge and Peggy was just the woman who found him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a tough subject. Please read at your own discretion. It's ends happily, I promise.

This was it, his final night on earth. He was so done with everything and everyone telling him he was too weak and to crippled, so why not end it?

He treated himself to a nice dinner of steak and scotch, savoring every last swallow until it was gone, then leaving a bill without waiting for the change. He wouldn’t be needing it, right?

He remembered his buddies in the army talking about how if you wanted to end it, you should do one test first: find a payphone, dial some random numbers, and if the operator can patch you through to anyone and they pick up, then don’t do it. Someone cared enough to pick up their phone, so then you should care enough to keep living.

All those friends had died in the war, leaving him as the sole survivor of his squadron.

So as he stumbled through the city, he walked up to the first payphone he found, digging out a few coins and flipping the dial through random numbers, and waiting.

Surprisingly enough, the number he dialed existed, and the line began to ring.

‘It’s not like anyone is going to pick up. It’s just dumb luck the number’s real.’ He thought, slumping further against his crutch.

Nobody had answered, the line almost done and he was just about to hang up the receiver when a British accent came through the phone, her voice warm and soft. “Hello?”

He froze, never expecting anyone to answer. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. No one was supposed to answer his call, proving that he wasn’t important in the world and validating his reason to end it.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” The voice spoke again.

He stuttered. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m here.”

“May I ask with whom I’m speaking with?” Her voice was still friendly, even though his call was most likely interrupting Christmas Eve with her family.

“Uh, it’s Daniel. You don’t know me, I just dialed this number randomly.” He trailed off, not really knowing how to explain why he called.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Well,” he paused, letting out a breath before unloading everything. “My army buddies always said that if you were thinking of killing each yourself, that you first find a payphone and dial a random number. If a person picked up, then it was a sign that you shouldn't kill yourself.”

The line was silent, and he braced himself for the click of the line going dead, but it never came.

“Are you planning on killing yourself?” Her voice was even softer, not a trace of hate towards him.

“Well, that was the plan, but…”

“But I answered.” She finished.

Another pause, the only sound was the rhythm of their breaths.

“Are you going to?”

His breath hitched. How was he going to answer this? By his rules, he shouldn't, but this was his plan. The world didn't care about him, why should he still stay, just because one person happened to pick up their phone?

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you. Sorry to interrupt your Christmas.”

“No, Daniel wait-” he hung up before she could finish.

Sighing, he turned away from the phone. He should have never done this. Now he just bothered someone on their night off.

‘It's for the best.’ He thought, starting his path down the street again.

~~~~~~~~~

Standing on the ledge of the Brooklyn Bridge, staring down at the water and not a soul even stopped to say hello.

‘Things will be better this way.’ He thought to himself again, preparing to step his foot over the edge.

“Daniel? Daniel, is that you?”

The woman with the British accent came running up, her cheeks pink and her chest heaving, coat unbuttoned in haste, running towards him until she stopped just a few feet away.

“Daniel? It me, the woman you called.”

“What are you doing here?” He turned his head towards her, confused as to why she would care enough to find him.

“You never said that you weren't going to kill yourself, so I had to come find you. I answered the phone, remember? You shouldn't be doing this.” She pleaded, sounding closer to tears than not.

“How did you know where to find me?”

She took a step forward. “You said you were a soldier. I'm a soldier, too; I worked with the 107th infantry. If I were to do this, this is where I would come. The water would be like concrete from this height, killing you instantly. You wouldn't feel a thing.” Another step forward.

Daniel turned away, not able to face her. That was exactly what he was thinking.

“Daniel, I don't want you to die, and I can't make you stop anything, but if you're going to do this, choose another night. It's Christmas Eve, surely there's someone who will miss you.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “All my family is dead or too drunk to remember me.”

He thought he heard her gasp, but chose to ignore it.

She was silent for a beat, like she was gathering courage, and then she spoke again, more quietly than ever. “I'll miss you.”

He turned, surprised by her words but nonetheless looking for the lie scrawled across her face, but found nothing but truth in her eyes.

“Why? You barely know me.”

“But I do. Not well, albeit, but I do know you.” He scoffed in disbelief, but then her eyes hardened in defiance, her back straightening. “You're a soldier. A man who served his country in the war, and now this country has forgotten about him. You're at the lowest possible point in your life, but you can come out of it, I know you can. You have no family, but that can change. A person doesn't have to be blood to be family. You're a brave man. I know this because not anyone could pick up the phone and call someone. Maybe you never meant for the call to go through, but it did, and it brought me here, to you.” She took a deep breath, taking another step closer until they were almost touching. “Let me help you, Daniel. It may not seem like I can do much, but I'm willing to give it my all… just come down here with me, Daniel.”

“I don't even know your name.” He whispered.

She laughed a bit. “It's Margaret. But everyone calls me Peggy.”

For a moment, he debated which way he should take his step, until finally the woman beside him won out and he stepped back, accepting the help from Peggy.

As soon as his feet were on the ground, the sobs started, wracking his body until he was about to collapse. Peggy swung her coat around her shoulders, and pretty blue thing, warm from her body heat and smelling of cinnamon and snow as she pulled him close, comforting him as though he were her lover. She murmured quiet things in his ear, gently scratching her nails against his scalp as he clung to her waist, head buried in her shoulder.

“Do you have a place to stay?” She asked once his sobs had died down.

He shook his head against his shoulder. “I sold it this morning.”

“You can stay with me, then.”

He picked his head up to see tears tracking down her face. “No one to go home to?”

She shook her head. “Nothing but a tea kettle and a book.”

He nodded his head, letting her lead him to the curb, where she hailed a cab and helped him in.

She would save his life in more ways than one, he would find out later, but for now, she was the one who was able to talk him down from the bridge, saving both his body and his soul.


End file.
